


twenty seconds (or twenty years)

by andsocanshe



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Series, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsocanshe/pseuds/andsocanshe
Summary: “There were moments in the middle that made Donna fall in love with him, too— the ways that only she had seen Harvey.”Or, five ways she knows him like no one else ever will.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	twenty seconds (or twenty years)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you to Heather for her top notch beta-turned-ego booster skills. Most of my work would be lost in an abyss, never to be seen again if it weren’t for her.

There were a few hundred thousand different ways that Donna had seen Harvey in the nearly two decades that they’d known each other.

She watched him play the role of the arrogant young ADA, be the emotionally unavailable womanizer, and the lawyer so afraid to own his own truth. More than that, she watched him become the man capable of loving her, openly, the man that had always been there despite the fear and flaw that held him back.

With that, there were moments in the middle that made her fall in love with him, too. The ways that only she had seen him, the moments behind the arrogance, the other women— the other _relationships_ , and beyond the night he came to her.

——

_i. the boy in the bar_

He was an arrogant hot-shot from afar.

Well, he was that up close as well.

A career driven party boy, two, maybe three steps ahead of college age immaturity.

Yet, Donna saw something different in him almost immediately. She had heard the stories from both sides— the one about the amazing young ADA, one of the top and by far Cameron Dennis’ favorite, and the one that painted him as a kid in a candy store when it came to people and relationships outside of the office.

She watched the way he was with people though, the way he listened and how he invested himself in conversation that he didn’t really care about and decided that _no,_ both narratives had him completely wrong. She watched the shift in his demeanor once he was alone and saw that it wasn’t until his fellow ADAs were out of sight that he switched his drink for something of his own preference. There was a sentiment in that that Donna found intriguing— even more so than the guy on his way to stardom in his profession.

What intrigued her most was that he walked her out of the bar and waited until she had a cab that evening, after turning down an offer from a man she later learned to be Charles Forstman.

And she knew that Harvey knew he wasn’t getting more from her than he already had, but still, he waited. The small talk was light, comfortable even and as he watched her step into a cab, Donna couldn’t help that she noticed the smile— a _grin,_ actually— that spread across his face when he thought she wasn’t looking. That confirmed one thing to her then and there: Harvey Specter was a good man.

——

_ii. the son_

With how protective she became of Harvey, it always surprised Donna that she never held a grudge against Lily or Gordon. She thought maybe, subconsciously, she knew that he needed her not to. 

(That, and she fell in love with the boy they raised, faults and all.)

And while Donna never actually saw Harvey with his mother, she _did_ meet his father.

Harvey introduced her to “ _the great_ ” Gordon Specter on a Friday a few months before they left the DA’s office, insisting that she come to dinner with them upon his father’s request.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve introduced my dad to a girl,” Harvey laughed, holding the door of the restaurant open for Donna.

“And she’s _just_ your secretary,” Donna quipped as her gaze met his, a familiar playful spark found in the deep brown of his eyes that she’d become accustomed to, but there was something else that lingered there. Something that she wouldn’t understand for a long time.

“C’mon, it’s more than that. We’re _friends_.”

“Are we?” It was a challenge.

“We are.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“ _Good,_ ” she laughed, following him toward the table that she had initially reserved for Harvey and his father only.

Gordon was already seated with a smile on his face. He stood to greet his eldest son, pulling Harvey into a big bear hug and Donna noted two things immediately. One, she had never seen Harvey relax this way… the way he had in his father’s embrace and two, he had his father’s smile.

“Dad,” Harvey moved to introduce her, “This is…”

“Donna,” she said as she took Gordon’s extended hand. The man smiled at her in a way that was genuine but curious. She knew what he was thinking. It was what everyone thought.

“It’s good to finally put a face to the name that’s been taking my calls for the past year,” he said, “And keeping my boy in check.”

Donna laughed but didn’t disagree. She and Gordon talked on the phone nearly once a week during her time on Harvey’s desk at the DA’s office, — and later during their first few years at Pearson Hardman together — sharing stories and updates about him. She always knew how much Harvey’s father missed him.

She knew how much he worried about him, too.

They settled into their table after introductions and Donna couldn’t help the way she people watched— observing how Harvey interacted with his father in a way she had never seen him before with a small smile on her lips.

He laughed at Gordon’s jokes and groaned as the man told her stories from his childhood. They bantered back and forth, and his father listened as he talked about his life, his career. Marcus’ name came up a few times, but never his mother’s. Donna’s heart broke a little at that.

Being a fly on the wall for Harvey’s relationship with his father in that moment and in all the years that followed truly was something… something that Donna vowed not to forget. It was where he earned a piece of his learned loyalty and where he had his first real, true heartbreak. It was a piece of him, a piece of the man he was then and the man he would be ten, twenty years later.

And she was the only woman— the only _person_ who ever met that side of Harvey. Something about that felt almost too vulnerable, so Donna protected it the way she protected him.

——

_iii. the “friend”_

They were… _friends_ , but it was always different. They spent a decade walking a line between that and something more, but when it came down to it, the word never felt like enough anyway.

Friend. _Friendship_.

They were a handful of years into this so-called _friendship_ when Donna’s mother called, insisting she bring her latest post-separation fling into the city for a proper introduction and in truth, she blamed Clara for the dinner party fiasco.

-

Once the door clicked closed, Donna heaved a sigh and made her way toward the kitchen. Harvey stood by the sink gathering dishes, suit jacket and now wine-stained dress shirt long abandoned and she couldn’t help that she noticed the shrug of his shoulders through his white undershirt when she said, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” he replied, eyes focused on the task in front of him.

“Seriously, Harvey, you’ve done enough.”

Donna took a place next to him then and began helping to clear what was left of the mess in silence.

The domesticity of it all was overwhelming— doing dishes in her kitchen, cooking dinner together hours earlier. It felt like dangerous territory for the boundaries she created after the other time (in said apartment) and he upheld. It felt comfortable and familiar in a way that it shouldn't be. Yet she didn’t want it to end.

“Thank you… for tonight.”

“Always,” the smile was evident in his voice and if her heart beat a little faster at that, Donna didn’t acknowledge it (she never acknowledged it). “Why’d you do this anyway? Your mom knows you can’t cook.”

“It’s a long story,” Donna sighed.

“I have time.”

They ended up on the couch once the dishes were done, a glass of wine in hand while Donna explained her motives, elaborating on the childhood she had told him pieces of previously. She told him about her parents marriage, their issues, and shortcomings. She told him about her mother’s various suitors since she left her father, her older sister’s revolving door of complicated men, and of her own apprehension toward marriage after the fallout.

“You’ll find someone,” Harvey’s voice was sure and steady, and Donna was entirely aware of how intently he had been listening to her ramblings. There was something else there, though, on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t say it and she wouldn’t push, even if a part of her already knew.

Because friends didn’t want more than what they already had and that’s what they were… _friends._

In the end, what Donna took from that evening was less about the implication, less about the shrimp in her mother’s hair, or the loser boyfriend she brought around. It was Harvey _her friend_ that she remembered, and admired, because he helped her cook dinner, stayed to clean up, then sat with her and became an outlet for something that she knew hit close to home for him too. 

For whatever it was, whatever they had, she wanted him in her life. 

——

_iv. the husband_

This was the Harvey that, for a long time, Donna was sure she would never be privy to but somehow the Harvey that she knew best.

The husband.

The jokes had been there for years, flowing easily between them and behind their backs but she _never_ thought that it would or could be her reality.

He’d worn the ring on his left hand like a badge of honor from the moment she put it there and there was something about Harvey her _boyfriend_ , Harvey her _husband_ , Harvey in love with _her_ that was so different yet so familiar. 

He still drove her crazy, he was still the frustrating, stubborn man that she had known for most of her adult life, but he was softer too. He was happy.

Donna came home to a man that drank wine or scotch or water on the couch with her, discussed their days with her, and held her at night. She went to work with the same man, who held her hand on the way in, and sought her out throughout the day just to see her (because they could finally do _that_ ).

-

“Hey,” she said, feeling Harvey come up behind her at the kitchen island. His fingers traced her hip and he placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder before turning her toward him.

He looked at her for a moment, eyes locked with hers while one hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing her chin. His lips met hers a split second later, memorizing her in a way he always seemed to and in a way he never forgot.

“What was that for?” Donna asked once Harvey pulled a way.

“Because I love you,” he said, fingers sweeping her hair from her face, “Because you’re beautiful.”

Donna’s eyebrows quirked up in suspicion.

“Because I can,” Harvey chuckled then, fighting the grin that she knew so well.

Whether they were a day into their relationship, three years into marriage, or two decades into whatever they had always been, he always did these little things, had these little moments and made these little movements that took her by surprise. Something told Donna that he always would.

——

_v. the dad_

Seeing Harvey as a dad was, by far, the best way Donna had ever seen him. In all the ways that she had seen him.

He was tentative and patient. He was the best storyteller, the best dance partner, the prince to their daughter’s princess, and the villain to her superhero. He kept the monsters at bay and chased the ones he couldn’t away. He played and pretended and took tantrums and the three-turned-thirteen phase like a pro. Donna couldn’t help but think that for a man who spent the majority of his adult life emotionally unavailable as a result of his own parental circumstances, her husband was the absolute _best_ father.

She would be lying if she said that it wasn’t easily seventy percent of the reason she propositioned him for baby number two.

-

Harvey knelt down to their four year old’s level outside of her preschool classroom, putting on his best brave “Super Daddy” face (more for himself than for her).

“You be good, little one,” he said, using one finger to lift her chin.

The four year old looked back him, the mischievous _Donna-twinkle_ sparkling in her eyes, “No, you be good, Daddy.”

“No, _you_ be good,” Harvey retorted.

“ _You_ be good,” she insisted.

They went back-and-forth a few times; their routine. They had done this nearly every day before work or school in the past year, likely a couple hundred times, but Donna couldn’t help the way her heart raced and melted all at once watching it unfold.

After their usual four rounds, Harvey conceded with a faux huffed sigh in an attempt to mask the chuckle behind his tone, “Fine. I’ll be good if you be good. Deal?”

The little girl seemed to ponder that, her free hand — the other still in her mother’s — coming up to her chin as she tapped her lip with one finger, “Deal.”

Harvey grinned that grin of his and leaned in for a hug and a quick kiss, sealing his daily deal with their girl before she ran off toward her classroom, strawberry blonde curls and bold personality in tow. The way he watched her— so in awe of the little person that they made together, never failed to amaze Donna, a soft smile forming on her lips.

“What?” Harvey’s voice pulled her from her trance.

“Nothing,” she said with a smirk as she took his hand, leading him out of the school, “Just thinking about how you better uphold your end of the bargain today, Mister.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow suggestively, “ _I_ wasn’t the one who broke it yesterday.”

She knew that he knew exactly what she was talking about and although he would never break a promise to their kid, he was a little more inclined to break one for her mother. He always had been.

After all, they never would have gotten where they were without a few bent rules and broken deals.

—

Watching him sleep next to her — first kid snuggled in-between, second on her chest with Harvey’s outstretched hand splayed across their back — after a night of hourly feedings and bad dreams, Donna couldn't help but think of the years before and between.

  
In those years, she had seen a hundred thousand incarnations of Harvey Specter— the boy, the man, the father of her children, her _friend_. And with each one, over the course of twenty years side-by-side, he proved to her that yes, he had always been worth it. Right from the start.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for Harvey’s routine with he and Donna’s daughter goes entirely to my four year old niece and her dad. It’s word-for-word their morning goodbye and not only is it the most precious thing to witness, I feel like it’s SO Harvey as a parent. If I wrote the entirety of this fic around that, that’s for me (and Heather and Sam) to know.
> 
> But anyway, thank you for reading!  
> Reviews, criticism, and the works are always welcome.
> 
> Find me on twitter at @donnaandharvey.


End file.
